The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations (light Nov…
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Chapter 297 Table of contents

The moment Amelia laid eyes on Ghislain, a sharp and intense wave of murderous intent surged through her.

“Should I kill him now?”

Leaving him alive felt unbearable and dangerous. Today’s events alone were proof enough of that.

As her hand slowly rose, Ghislain watched with a faint, sharp smile tugging at his lips.

“Stay still, Amelia. It’s not your time to die yet.”

Amelia was a double-edged sword, a rose drenched in venom. Even the Duke’s family hadn’t yet uncovered her true nature or her real capabilities.

She had no true allies—only her own ambitions mattered to her. And for that very reason, she could prove useful to Ghislain.

“As long as you keep doing things even the Duke’s family can’t predict, it’ll make dealing with them easier for me.”

Right now, there wasn’t a single battlefield where Ghislain could go head-to-head with the Duke’s forces and win. That was why he needed Amelia—a wild card.

In his past life, once the power of the Duke’s family had been weakened by his actions, she had immediately bared her fangs. She had even gone as far as to attempt to stab Harold, who had become the Duke of the North, in the back.

This time would be no different. The more chaos Ghislain caused, the more Amelia would exploit the gaps to her advantage.

Of course, even though Ghislain prided himself on knowing Amelia better than anyone, he couldn’t be entirely sure of everything.

Amelia had a habit of acting on sudden, unpredictable impulses, pulling off actions no one could have foreseen.

Such actions could bring danger even to Ghislain himself, but if it meant taking on the overwhelming might of the Duke’s family, that was a risk he was willing to take.

“So think carefully, Amelia,” Ghislain mused.

If he truly wanted to kill her, he would have tried the moment he regressed. Circumstances hadn’t allowed for that, but now that she was alive, it was better to use her to the fullest.

However, if she decided to attack now, he would have no choice but to kill her.

“One chance is all I’ll get…”

His grip on his spear tightened. If a fight broke out, he would need to pierce her head with a single strike. If he failed, his current forces wouldn’t be able to prevail.

The people standing beside her weren’t ordinary either. Their sharp gazes made it clear they were ready to strike at any moment.

“If battle breaks out, I’ll have to take them out first,” Ghislain calculated.

He was too tired and too injured. Fighting Amelia’s army now would put the Fenris forces stationed here in grave danger.

Even if he managed to kill her, the cost would be too high. The hard-fought victory against Harold would lose its significance.

If they clashed now, it would only end up benefiting the Duke’s family.

Amelia undoubtedly understood this too.

As her hand continued to rise, Ghislain slowly began to lift his spear in response.

Behind him, the Fenris knights began to exude a menacing aura. Amelia’s entourage, including her close aides and knights, matched it with their own, the tension escalating to suffocating levels.

Amelia’s narrowed eyes gleamed sharply.

“Maybe this is my chance,” she thought.

Ghislain was dangerous. He had pulled off feats that were nothing short of miraculous.

Even now, she couldn’t fully understand what he knew or what his abilities were. One thing was certain: he was someone who had to die.

“It’s entirely possible.”

Ghislain and his knights looked visibly exhausted.

Their armor was drenched in blood, and the dust that clung to them hadn’t even been cleaned off, suggesting they had just arrived.

No matter how strong Ghislain and his subordinates were, they couldn’t fend off an attack from her forces in their current state.

Her troops were tired as well, but their overwhelming numbers gave them a decisive advantage.

It was clearly an opportunity, and she needed to act. But for some reason, her hand wouldn’t move.

“If I kill him now… the Third Legion and Ferdium will strike us immediately.”

If she killed Ghislain here, the aftermath would be catastrophic, even for her.

She hadn’t yet earned the full acknowledgment of the Duke’s family, and she wasn’t in a position to openly clash with Marquis Branford’s royalist faction.

Even if she had a justification, attacking a rival who had arrived first was an entirely different matter from securing her position through negotiation.

But that wasn’t all. Perhaps that reasoning was just her mind rationalizing something deeper.

Fear.

“I could die too.”

Amelia trusted her instincts, and they were screaming at her that attacking now was dangerous.

“Why?”

Everything about the situation pointed to her advantage, yet this ominous feeling wouldn’t leave her.

Even the thought of clashing with the royalist faction seemed less daunting compared to the unsettling warning her instincts kept sending.

She bit her lip and slowly lowered her raised hand.

Ghislain, observing her intently, responded by lowering his spear, a faint smile still playing on his lips.

“That instinct of hers… it’s just like in the previous life.”

Even back then, Amelia had an uncanny knack for evading him, always slipping out of his reach. She must have possessed some kind of unique danger sense.

It was likely the reason he had never managed to catch her, even after she ascended to the rank of one of the continent’s Seven Great Powers.

Of course, Amelia hadn’t stopped just because of her instincts. She was also carefully assessing the political situation.

“There’s no benefit to us fighting right now. It would only play into the hands of the Duke’s family.”

As long as the Duke’s family existed, her ambitions were little more than an impossible dream. But if Ghislain, having defeated Harold, joined forces with the royalists to take on the Duke’s family, opportunities would arise.

There was no need for her to engage in a costly battle with the royalist faction when she could let Ghislain do the heavy lifting.

“I’ll spare you this time, Ghislain. Let’s see how much chaos you can stir up.”

Both of them understood that attacking each other now would lead to nothing but mutual losses. Neither of them was inclined to take such a risk.

As the tension between them began to ease, their subordinates gradually withdrew their killing intent.

Amelia broke the silence after a moment, her curiosity piqued.

"How did you know I would come here?"

"Isn’t it obvious? There’s no way someone like you would pass up an opportunity like this."

Her brow twitched at his words.

This wasn’t obvious. It wasn’t something just anyone could predict. If it were that simple, every lord in the North would have moved by now.

Yet Ghislain spoke as if her actions were entirely predictable, as though it were natural for him to anticipate her every move.

"You seem to know more about me than I expected."

"Of course. I probably know you better than anyone else in this kingdom… no, on this entire continent."

"Better than anyone? How arrogant of you to think that."

"Arrogant or not, I’m always watching how you move, Amelia. So don’t do anything reckless unless you want to regret it."

Ghislain’s feral grin accompanied his warning, but Amelia’s expression remained indifferent.

"Don’t say things that others might misunderstand. I’m no longer your fiancée."

"…Is that how you see it?"

"…."

"…."

A brief awkward silence fell between them.

Ghislain couldn’t help but recall memories from his past life. Back then, whenever he left a territory in his wake, Amelia would rush in and plant her flag.

She had been so persistent that even his own subordinates gave her mocking nicknames like “The Witch of Flags” and “The Queen of Land-Grabbing.”

Even after Leypold had been crushed, her tenacity was relentless. She would constantly harass the Mercenary King’s forces, raiding them whenever the opportunity arose and seizing more land.

It was well-known how she’d refuse to return those territories, coming up with every excuse imaginable when pressured by the Duke’s nobles.

While Ghislain swept through lands like a storm, Amelia followed close behind, tirelessly pursuing every advantage. That unyielding persistence was why she had managed to maintain her forces throughout the year-long war.

"The Duke’s family will have no choice but to reach out to Amelia now," Ghislain thought.

Even if the Duke’s family initiated a civil war, they lacked anyone capable of managing the North. Eventually, Amelia would step into Harold’s vacant role.

But unlike the past, where Harold had absorbed the North on behalf of the Duke’s family, the current situation was entirely different.

Now, Ghislain was the dominant power in the North, and Amelia wasn’t someone who would serve the Duke’s family like Harold had.

She would be an uncontrollable loose cannon in the upcoming civil war—or, more accurately, a wildcard.

"She’s probably already thinking about what she can extract from the Duke’s family. If she keeps this up, even Raul will have his hands full dealing with her."

The thought brought an involuntary smile to Ghislain’s lips.

Regardless of their history, there was no denying that Amelia was an extraordinary woman in many ways.

Lowering his spear, Ghislain turned his horse to leave.

"I’ll take my leave for today. Consider yourself lucky, Amelia."

"Next time we meet, I’ll be coming for your head, Ghislain."

"Confident, are we?"

"Of course. Don’t expect me to let you go as easily as I did today. Look forward to it."

"Don’t say things others might misunderstand."

"…."

Ghislain chuckled as he parroted her earlier words back to her, then rode off, his laughter fading into the distance.

Amelia glared at his retreating figure with icy eyes. Truthfully, she wanted nothing more than to attack him right then and there.

But not now.

Killing Ghislain now would mean losing everything she had gained. It would be meaningless.

Ghislain was merely an obstacle on her path—not her ultimate goal. For that reason, she could hold back for now.

She had far greater ambitions and objectives to pursue.

Of course, there were plenty of ways she could make things difficult for him if she wanted to. She could burn down the nearby villages or plunder them as a means of venting her frustration.

"Pointless."

But such actions would bring little benefit, amounting to nothing more than petty spite. Amelia was not foolish enough to waste her resources on something so trivial.

"Let’s head back."

Amelia retreated without hesitation. If not today, she could seize another opportunity later.

As the Leypold forces slowly withdrew, the small Fenris contingent stationed at the fortress let out a collective sigh of relief. They had been bracing for death, knowing that a fight in their current state would have been a losing battle.

Standing atop the fortress wall, Ghislain watched Amelia’s retreating figure and shook his head slightly. Letting go of whatever disappointment lingered, he laughed heartily and gave his orders.

“Leave only a minimal guard here. The rest of us are heading to Desmond’s Castle!”

The gates of Desmond’s Castle groaned open as Ghislain and the Ferdium forces entered.

Following close behind, the royal army and the rest of the Ferdium troops poured in, their presence causing the people within the castle to whisper anxiously.

“We lost…?”

“How could an army of thirty thousand be defeated…?”

“What happens now…?”

Desmond’s subjects had always taken pride in their territory being one of the strongest in the North. While Leypold had been considered a rival, its internal troubles had left it no match for Desmond.

This crushing defeat, therefore, struck them like a thunderclap, shattering their confidence.

However, more immediate and practical concerns overshadowed their broken pride.

“The war is over, which means there will be massive levies. The royal army and Ferdium’s forces are both here.”

“Isn’t Ferdium known as one of the poorest places in the North?”

“We’ve got nothing left to give…”

As residents of the heart of Desmond’s domain, they had been relatively well off, thanks to Harold’s meticulous management of settlements based on social and economic hierarchies.

Even so, the war had drained their resources, and the defeat had left them with no way to recover.

Considering the heavy toll the invading forces must have suffered in their victory, it was clear that these armies would extract the cost of their losses from Desmond’s lands. The people couldn’t help but tremble at the prospect.

They didn’t even dare look Ghislain in the eye as he strode confidently into the castle, their breaths held in fear.

The same went for Desmond’s vassals. Convinced of their victory, they had made no preparations to flee.

Before the outcome of the war had even been announced, Ghislain’s forces had already stormed the castle, leaving them with no time to gather their belongings or escape.

Now, the vassals were being dragged out to the plaza one by one, their expressions a mix of disbelief and panic.

Ghislain observed them with a cold, detached gaze. His icy stare caused some of the vassals to pale and break into desperate pleas.

“My lord! The war wasn’t our decision!”

“We opposed it! We swear!”

“How could we ever suggest attacking the royal army? That would be treason! Treason!”

They scrambled to save their lives, but not all shared their desperation.

“Silence, you spineless cowards!” another vassal roared. “Do you not feel any shame?”

“The Count of Desmond would never forgive such dishonor!”

“We fought with everything we had, and losing is part of war!”

These were the vassals who still remained loyal to Harold, even after his death.

Harold, for all his harshness and severity, had been an exceptional leader, managing his domain with skill and maintaining the dignified air of a noble. Many had pledged their allegiance to him out of genuine admiration.

As the vassals argued among themselves, Ghislain sighed, his tone weary.

“Deal with them.”

At his command, soldiers moved in without hesitation, dragging the vassals away.

“No! Spare us!”

“You barbaric invaders!”

“This is all because we failed to kill that madman sooner!”

Amidst the chaos, a particular shout caught Ghislain’s attention. He turned his curious gaze toward the source of the voice.

The man, dressed in fine clothes indicating his high status, glared at Ghislain with bloodshot eyes, his defiance unyielding.

“We should have targeted you instead of your brother back then! You should’ve been killed no matter what!”

“Hmm…” Ghislain hummed, intrigued.

“You piece of filth! I regret not urging the destruction of Ferdium earlier!”

Stepping down from his horse, Ghislain approached the man.

“And who are you? You seem to know quite a bit.”

“I am the steward of this land! Someone of your caliber wouldn’t even dare look me in the eye under normal circumstances!”

“Oh? Then I suppose you were involved in plotting my removal alongside Harold?”

“That’s right! You were insignificant compared to the other priorities we had, and look where that got us! If not for the royal army’s interference, we would’ve crushed you this time!”

Unaware of the true course of events, the steward assumed that Fenris’s victory was solely due to the royal army’s support, given the overwhelming difference in troop numbers.

Still glaring at Ghislain, he continued his tirade, his voice filled with venom.

“Do you think this is over? Even if we’ve fallen, the Duke’s family won’t sit idly by! They’ll kill you! Not even the royalists will be able to protect you!”

“Is that so? Funny. I thought the Duke’s family was too busy to pay attention to me.”

Ghislain’s mocking tone only fueled the steward’s rage.

“The Duke’s family has already marked you as a dangerous individual! They sent someone to deal with you, but that’s why the Count had to act prematurely!”

“Oh? Is that right?” Ghislain’s smile grew wider, amusement dancing in his eyes.

It seemed the Duke’s family was already making moves to eliminate him.

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